


On a Pair of Morgans Finding a Harry

by shichan_DFKink (shinchansgirl)



Series: Wild!Harry [3]
Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Complete, Crack, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-29
Updated: 2011-07-29
Packaged: 2017-10-21 22:04:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinchansgirl/pseuds/shichan_DFKink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: A Manual for the Care and Feeding of (Character of Choice) or, Owner's Guide and Maintenance Manual for the (CoC). Something like this. Bonus points for lots of shipping, or how your pet Murphy or Marcone Model 2.3 interacts with other pets/robots. Is your warranty void if your Harry is left near flammable objects?</p><p>Note: Characters treated as species. Will make sense when you read.<br/>-Another in the Wild!Harry type style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On a Pair of Morgans Finding a Harry

I was young. That was my only excuse. Young and stupid and far away from my Margret-mother and Malcolm-father.

Instead of running away, I stared at the Morgan in fascination. He wasn’t any bigger than I was, really, and I thought he was older. He had a sword in his hand, and was standing over something I couldn’t see because he’d covered it with a grey pelt.

“Hi,” I said.

He stared at me critically, eyes narrowed. He was about as tall as my Malcolm-father, so he had to look down to see me. “Good evening,” he finally said, formally. “Where are your parents?”

“Back at the den,” I told him, inching forward to look at the grey mound. “What’s this?”

“Nothing for you to concern yourself with,” the Morgan said, stepping between me and the thing. “Head back to your den.”

“I don’t want to.” I tried to edge around him, but he wasn’t letting me. “Is that why you had your sword out? Did you kill something?”

The Morgan was silent for a moment before answering: “Yes.”

“Is it dinner?”

“Most definitely not.”

“Why’d you kill it then?”

“It was… ill,” he finally said. “It was being destructive.”

“Is that bad?”

“Do you always ask this many questions? Yes, it is bad.”

“Oh.” I hung my head a bit. This Morgan probably wouldn’t like me; my parents sometimes said I was destructive for setting small fires in the den. My Margaret-mother said I needed to learn control. She much preferred teaching my Margaret-sister, though, since my Margaret-sister had better control.

“What’s wrong now?” the Morgan said, sighing. My parents did that too, when they were tired of me.

“Nothing,” I said. “I should go home.”

“You are too young to be Doomed,” he said, his voice taking on an odd tone. “Just old enough to be learning the Harry talents.”

I couldn’t even look at his chin or shoulders, the way Malcolm-father taught me to so I could avoid an unintentional soulgaze. I was looking at my feet. “What’s doomed?”

“The Doom is a sentence placed upon young Harrys when they are found to be breaking the Laws. It is usually placed upon the Harry by a Merlin, however a Morgan may do so if he feels it appropriate.”

“What are the laws?”

I could feel him staring at me. “You haven’t been taught the Laws?”

I shook my head.

“Where are your parents?” It was different this time, softer, angrier. I’d made him mad.

“I can’t tell you,” I told him, crossing my arms. I might not have known what the Morgan meant by the “laws,” but I knew better than to take home an angry houseguest.

There was a rustling nearby as a second Morgan approached. The second Morgan walked right up to the first, mostly ignoring me – but I did see him glance at me, so I knew he knew I was there.

“I see you found the warlock,” the second Morgan said, lifting the pelt up a bit to see what was beneath it. I tried to sneak around to see, but the first Morgan pushed it back down before I could.

“There are young eyes here,” the first Morgan said. “It’s covered for a reason.”

“He’s just a pup.”

“An ignorant pup. I was hoping to have a few words with its parents.”

The second Morgan frowned. “A Margaret and a Malcolm, right?”

“Yes, why?”

“There was an abandoned den not far from here-“

I didn’t stay to hear the rest, I took off towards my den to find my parents. It couldn’t be my parents that had left – my parents wouldn’t leave me behind. My parents loved me. They would have called for me at the very least, searched for me, waited for me to come home – I hadn’t been that far from them.

But when I got to the den they weren’t there. They’d left behind the pelts me and my Margaret-sister had slept on, and the fire burning with dinner cooking. There were a few rocks that had been moved, and one of the pelts was out of place, but nothing else showed that there had been any rush to leave.

I started to call for them. They couldn’t be far. They’d taught me the keening sound that meant they should come right away, that something was wrong, and I made it as loud and strong as I could.

They’d just stepped away, right?

One of the Morgans – the first, I realized after a moment it was the first – pulled me back against him and rubbed my back. I keened again.

“We should leave,” the second Morgan said. “You smell it, right?”

I felt the first Morgan nod more than I saw it. “A Justin.”

“They probably thought their pup had already been taken.”

The Morgan was warm, I realized. And he’d put his sword away. “We can’t leave him here alone.”

“He’ll come with us,” the second said.

“No!” I yelled, pulling away. I couldn’t stay with them if they were going to go away. What if my parents came back and I wasn’t here? I’d never see them again! I had to wait here for them – they would be able to find me if I just stayed here, right? “I can’t leave. My Margaret-mother will be here any minute. They aren’t gone.”

The second Morgan got a strange look on his face, like he wanted to say something. I almost dared him to say it, but I was afraid he’d tell me that my parents were gone again. Just because they weren’t here didn’t mean he had to say it!

Eventually, he turned to look at the other Morgan. “We could stay the night. So long as we keep him in sight, the Justin shouldn’t come close.”

The first Morgan smiled a bit. I didn’t see what there was to smile about. “I’ll set up a ward – just a warning, not to keep anything out,” he added, when I opened my mouth to protest. “Your Margaret-mother will know very well what it is, and won’t have any trouble crossing it to get to you.”

I don’t remember deciding to sit down, but my legs sort of folded under me and then I was. I nodded, and the first Morgan went off, leaving me with the second.

“My Margaret-mother’s coming back,” I told him. “She has to.”

The Morgan didn’t get angry at me for the remark. He didn’t even comment on my tone, which my Margaret-mother would have. Instead he came over and laid behind me, and pulled me into his arms like my Malcolm-father sometimes did, and my Margaret-mother used to. I let my face turn into his chest and breathed in his warmth, stronger than that of the fire.

Eventually, I must have fallen asleep. I only remember them talking over me, my eyes heavy and gritty. “The scent of the dead Harry,” one was saying. “They must have thought it was their pup.”

“They would have run,” the other said – the closer voice, so the one holding me. “Thought he was dead.”

I made a small keening sound in protest at that – I was most certainly not dead! – but the two Morgans didn’t seem to mind. They made soft sounds that reminded me of when I was new, before I was even a pup, and I must have fallen asleep again because the next thing I knew it was morning. And my parents had been gone all night.


End file.
